Life of a Donna

Chapter Three

It was almost satisfying to see them caught off guard, even if only for a moment. Dad recovered first, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“It is going to take time to get used to your intelligence,” he admitted, his tone a blend of pride and exasperation. “I agree with the driver, but I would like two on security daily. One to stay with you and one nearby and if you go out, or we have a party or something similar, there will be six.” This was not just about me. It was about the family, their rules, their world. And as much as I wanted to push back, I knew I had to pick my battles.

“Alright,” I said, forcing a small smile. “Three daily, six for events. But I would like to meet the three daily ones first. I will not be around anyone who makes me uncomfortable.”

Dad nodded approvingly. “Fair enough. I will arrange it.”

As the conversation shifted, I sat back, my mind racing. I had skills—skills I’d worked hard to develop—but they did not make me invincible. Nothing could erase the vulnerability I felt, the fear that lingered just beneath the surface. Still, I clung to the small victory. It was not much, but it was something. A tiny bit of control in a life that felt increasingly out of my hands.

Right now, you might be wondering: if I knew how to protect myself, how was it that I let it happen? The answer is simple—there is a difference between built men and small children. I am fifteen now, but I was much younger when the abuse started. I learned to fight because of the abuse. My parents were not the small, fragile stick figures you might imagine when thinking about addicts. They were strong, imposing, and relentless. And I was just a child.

The memories clawed at the edges of my mind, but I pushed them down, focusing on the present. Dad’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, sharp and unexpected. “Great, now let’s talk about my wife,” he said, his tone once again, matter-of-fact.

“Why?” The word slipped out before I could stop it, my surprise cutting through the tension in the room. My stomach twisted at the thought of another person being thrust into this already overwhelming situation. A woman who might resent me, who might see me as a reminder of what she could not give my father.

Dad leaned back in his seat; his expression unreadable. “Because she is my wife, Bernadette. And whether you like it or not, she is going to be part of your life now. And because my wife is not your birth mother,” Dad said, his voice steady but tinged with something I could not quite place—regret, maybe, or discomfort.

“What you need to know is that my marriage was arranged as a mutually beneficial match for the families. We get along, but we do not love each other. But when my last sons were born, she could no longer have children. For her, it was a blessing. For me, it was a curse. As a leading family, I needed to have a son and a daughter, which she was never able to give me.”

I clenched my hands in my lap, my nails digging into my palms. Part of my life? How could he say that so casually, as if it were as simple as adding another chair to the table? My life had already been turned upside down—first by the abuse, then by the discovery of this family, and now by the idea of a stepmother. It was too much. But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I nodded slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

He paused, his jaw tightening as if the words were difficult to say. I could tell he did not like talking about this—about her, about the life he had built before I came into the picture. Dad took a deep breath before continuing, his voice softer now, almost apologetic. “I did not plan for this, Bernadette. I did not plan for you. But now that you are here, I want you to understand where you fit in.”

“I do not know how my wife will behave with you,” Dad said, his voice cautious, as if he were treading on thin ice. “I just ask that you be friendly and try not to cause a rift. At the end of the day, she is still my son’s mother. If she does anything, please let us know. Do not be afraid. Most of the house has cameras and only me and my sons have access, so the truth will come out anyway. I expect this situation to explode.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and loaded. I sat there trying to process what he was saying. The weight of it all pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to scream, to cry, to demand why this was being put on me. But I didn’t. Instead, I nodded slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll try. I do not want any drama.”

Dad’s expression softened, and for a moment, I thought he might say something comforting. But he did not. He just nodded, his gaze shifting to the window.

“I don’t know what it’s like to have a mum and dad’s love,” I said, my voice quiet but steady. “So, I won’t do anything to jeopardize any relationship your wife has with you or your sons. I’m just glad you even agreed to take me in. You didn’t have to upend your life, your sons’ lives, or your wife’s life for me. I do appreciate it, and if you’d prefer, I’m happy to find my own place. Like I said, I have no expectations. I’ve been looking after myself for a while now and before you accepted to take me, I was prepared to be on my own.”

The words spilled out before I could stop them, raw and honest. I meant every one of them, but saying them aloud made my chest ache. I did not want to be a burden. And yet, here I was, sitting in the middle of their lives, feeling like an intruder in a world I did not belong to.

Dad’s expression softened, and for a moment, he looked almost… sad. “Bernadette,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, “you’re not going anywhere. You are my daughter, and this is your home now. I know this will not be easy for any of us, but we will figure it out. Together.”

I nodded, forcing a small smile. “Okay,” I said, though the word felt hollow. “Thank you.”

Dad reached out, his hand resting on mine for a brief moment before he pulled away. It was a small gesture, but was enough to make my throat tighten. I looked down at my hands, my vision blurring as tears threatened to spill over. I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

“There’s no need to be drastic,” Edward spoke, his voice calm but firm. “I’ve talked with my brothers. There’s some anger, some hurt, and some fear, but that’s because this situation is new to us, too. Your youngest-eldest brothers are 23. We’re adults, and if we can’t behave, that says something about us, not you. We’ve known about you since before you were born. We’ve had fifteen/sixteen years of knowing that you were out there… somewhere.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. I stared at him, my chest tightening as I tried to process what he was saying. They had known about me and yet… I had been alone. The thought was like a knife twisting in my gut, sharp and unrelenting.

Edward’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked almost apologetic. “We didn’t know where you were or what had happened to you.”

“It is okay, Thank you,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Edward nodded; his expression serious but kind. But for now, all I could do was try to believe him. Try to believe that this family could be mine, that I could find a place here. Even if it felt impossible.

Home

Wow.

That is all I can say when we pulled through the gates. The driveway was only a 30-second drive to the house, but it was lined with trees either side, and it could comfortably fit two cars driving side by side. It was like driving through a mini forest. The first thing I noticed after that was the water fountain that created the semicircle.

The other side led to what was another driveway. There was an undercover area in the front of the door which could easily fit 6 cars, two side by side and three in a line. Off to the side of that was a garage door which led to what I assumed to be an underground garage, as the main floor of the house was flat. If they were just a leading family, I wonder what the Don’s house was like.

The house itself was four floors. I could only imagine what the inside would be like, if the outside was anything to go by. I understood why the amount of space was needed and seclusion, as there were already eight cars that were either coming or going.

Pulling into the undercover area, I grabbed my bag and climbed out, again without waiting for the driver. I was already halfway to the door when I heard a voice call out behind me.

“Ma’am!”

I turned quickly, coming face-to-face with who I assumed was the driver. He must also be security because, damn, he was built. His broad shoulders and towering frame looked like they belonged in an action movie, not behind the wheel of a car. “Yes?” I asked, my voice calm but curious. Then, before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “How do you even fit in the car?”

I immediately clapped a hand over my mouth, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I am sorry,” I said quickly, lowering my hand and trying to regain my composure. “But seriously.”

Behind me, the sound of restrained laughter broke the silence. I glanced over my shoulder to see dad, Edward, and Isaiah—trying and not suppressing their amusement.

The driver, however, didn’t seem fazed. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he replied, “It’s a tight fit, ma’am, but I manage.” I nodded, still feeling a little awkward but also oddly reassured by his calm demeanor. “Well, I appreciate the effort,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “You must love your job.”

“It has its perks,” he said evenly, his tone professional but with a hint of warmth. I turned back to my family, who were still chuckling softly. “Glad I could entertain you all,” I said dryly, though I couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my face.

Edward stepped forward, grinning. “You’re full of surprises, Bernadette. I think we’re going to like having you around.”

His words should have made me feel welcome, but they also reminded me of how much I still had to learn about this family—and about myself in this new life. Still, for now, I was willing to take the small victories.

“Ma’am, would you please let me open the door for you? It’s kind of my job,” the driver said, his tone polite but firm.

I turned to face him, my lips twitching into an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but I can’t sit still for long. The plane was a nightmare, even considering the space it had. You stop, and I’m already out. I’ll try to give you time to open the door, but… no promises.”

The sound of laughter erupted behind me. I shook my head, half-amused, half-annoyed, and swung my bag over my shoulder. Without waiting for a response, I started heading toward the door, my pace brisk. Within seconds, I heard the sound of footsteps quickening behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw my brothers, Dad, and even the driver chasing after me. The sight was almost comical—grown men, all of them towering over me, scrambling to catch up.

“Bernadette!” Dad called out, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Slow down, will you?”

“Sorry, can’t,” I called back, not breaking stride. “I’ve been sitting for hours. My legs need to move.”

Edward was the first to catch up, falling into step beside me. “You’re going to keep us on our toes, aren’t you?” he said, grinning.

“Someone has to,” I replied, matching his grin with one of my own.

Behind us, the driver finally reached the door, his hand outstretched to open it for me. I paused, giving him a nod of thanks before stepping inside. “See? I waited this time,” I said, glancing back at him.

“Barely,” he muttered, though I caught the hint of a smile on his face. As he and my family filed in behind me, I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of victory.